• A class of hair
    Moved by the wind
    The private members
    Go adrift.

    The syntax lacks
    My vision blurry
    The arguments
    Are all a flurry.

    No documents
    Go with your hair.
    No man, no question
    I feel lame.

    Yet playing with it
    Is so simple -
    A gentle touch
    A sway, or brush

    Will make my heartbeat rush.